Jeff's Blog

So you write gay-themed fictional novels and short stories, and you want to get them published. Not only that, but you also dream of someday writing full time and giving up your evil day job. You don’t want to brag, but you’re pretty confident you’ve got talent. Some of the published stories you’ve read are not nearly as well-written and entertaining as your own work. Your family and friends, and even a few people online have told you how awesome you are, and they’ve even promised to buy your books if you do get published.
So you bite the bullet and go for it. You submit your manuscript to one or more publishers, and you wait. When a few weeks later you receive a contract offer, you’re over the moon with excitement. You’re going to be published! The whole world will know who you are, a published author. Yippee!
Then you begin the whole process of getting your story published. Your manuscript goes through a series of edits. A cover jacket is created. You write your dedication, acknowledgements, and forward. At last, you receive a galley proof which you approve and then wait for your release date.
All of this, from the early stages of contemplating submission to the final release date, is just the beginning. That’s the easy stuff.  What is much harder is the waiting game that happens next. You wonder how your book is doing, how many copies you’ve sold. You stress over the mixed reviews you receive. You try to follow your book’s success on Good Reads and Amazon. And you do whatever you can think of to promote the book—blogging, social media, advertisements.
Then finally, as much as six months later, you receive a royalty statement that shows you exactly how many copies were sold, and your heart sinks. By this time, you’ve completed other novels, and you hope they do better than your first. You go through the whole process over and over, and every three months when you get your statement, you feel your dream eroding. The paltry number of copies is so pathetic you barely consider it worth the effort. You’re so discouraged, and the harder you try, the more it feels like you’re beating your head against a wall. What’s the secret? How come some authors in your genre do so well? How come some get thousands of ratings on Good Reads? Is their writing that much better than yours?
And then…you finally realize it’s time to throw in the towel. The hundreds of hours you spend writing your manuscripts, proofing, editing, and revising—not to mention the promotional costs of the conferences, advertisements, and giveaways—result in a net loss. You spend more than you make. You think you’ve done everything right, but nothing seems to work, so you resignedly call it quits.
The publishing industry is no picnic, and being an author within a small sub-genre is about the lowest level of hell. It really isn’t dog-eat-dog, survival of the fittest; it’s survival of the luckiest. Those stories that hit the bestseller lists and remain at the top are not much different than what the plethora of other m/m authors write. The writing craft skills are not more honed and refined. The plots, characterizations, pacing, and cadence have not been more skillfully constructed. And even the promotional efforts of those authors—their websites, advertisement, blogs, etcetera—are no more appealing than the rest.
So why is it that only a select few rise to the top and the vast majority flail around like dogs at the feet of their masters’ dinner tables, waiting for some crumbs to fall to the floor? Is it image? Is it name recognition? Is it just plain luck?
Can’t we ask these same questions about every type of public expression? Singers, journalists and reporters, actors, musicians, artists…there are a very few who rise to the top while the vast majority struggle to eek by. Starving artists. We don’t always know why lightning strikes in a specific location, we just see the result when it happens.
A few of the people I love—people I’ve GROWN to love after getting to know as fellow authors within this genre—have reached their breaking points and regrettably decided to give it up. It’s easy to say that’s the way the cookie crumbles, that some make it and others don’t, and that those who are truly talented ultimately get their reward. But I honestly know this isn’t true. I see some of these people who have amazing talent. I read their books and blush, knowing they are better writers than I am but they’re virtually invisible. I cross my fingers for them. Sometimes I even pray for them, to a God I’m not even sure exists. And it makes me sad to feel so powerless. It isn’t fair.
But don’t we know this to also be true in television, movies, and even in mainstream literary fiction? Some of the most popular, blockbuster hits are utterly horrible, and we scratch our head, wondering why they became so famous. We hear musicians who can’t carry a tune, actors whose performances are cringe-worthy, and writers who crank out the worst crap we’ve ever read—and they are mega stars, household names, industry icons.
I don’t have answers to this mystery. I don’t know what to tell these talented authors who deserve more attention but don’t seem to get any. There isn’t a magic wand to wave. There’s not a secret formula or a surefire path to success. If there were, I’d be following it myself. I have acquired moderate success in the genre, enough to make this my full time job, but I certainly haven’t become rich and famous.
I can, however, share some of the things that have worked for me and hope these tips will benefit some others.
First of all, you have to remember that m/m fiction is a fish bowl environment. A relatively small group of people read our books, and because this number is so finite, the market can easily be saturated. In some respects, it is first-come, first-served. The authors who’ve been around awhile are more recognized, and thus it is all the more difficult for new talent to be noticed. Go visit Dreamspinner Press’s author page and count the authors on their list. They have over six hundred, and this is just one publisher.  So what am I saying? Be patient. The more exposure you get, the more your work will be noticed, and when it is, you’ll become a “new-to-me” author to a lot of loyal readers who will then be incentivized to seek out your back list.
Secondly, because the sub-genre is so small, you might consider some cross-marketing strategies. What did I do? Well, I didn’t start off by promoting myself as an m/m author. I originally published a gay fiction novel about teenage love. It quickly became labeled young adult, and then I embraced the designation and sort of ran with it. I submitted the book to every young adult blog and review site I knew to exist. That helped me build a base a readers or “fans” that extended beyond that fish bowl.  Add to that the fact that my first writings were posted on an amateur website. I used to write authoritarian (BDSM) erotic stories for the Nifty Archive, and so many of those readers followed me after I became published. I also embraced this designation. I don’t market my work exclusively within the m/m community, and if I had to rely only upon m/m romance readers, I probably would be on food stamps right now.
Thirdly, I didn’t limit my marketing to the Internet. Four local newspapers have thus far run feature articles/interviews about me and my stories. One of them is an LGBT publication, but the other three were mainstream press.  I also reached out to several independent local bookstores. I found four who were willing to sell my books on consignment. One of them now buys copies outright.
Fourthly, I did what I had to do to maintain cash flow. Waiting every three months to get paid sucks, and it isn’t practical…or in my case even possible.  That’s why I have stories at different publishers. They each are on a different calendar so that I get at least one check per month. Additionally, I self-publish some of my smaller books, and Amazon pays monthly (70 effin percent, by the way!).
Fifthly, I networked. Around the time I was first published, I co-owned and operated a reviewing blog. Back then it was called Michele ‘n Jeff Reviews, and it has now evolved into Top 2 Bottom Reviews. Although I’m no longer directly involved with that website, it afforded me a terrific opportunity to meet a lot of amazingly talented authors. As the site grew, it eventually was noticed by all of the m/m publishers as well as the most popular authors. We reviewed their books, and those authors and publishers promoted our site. As readers visited our site, they were exposed to my work as well. Granted, it was a hell of a lot of work to not only read and review the books but also to arrange the interviews and post them every day. But here’s the deal: we did a lot for the authors and publishers and received nothing (directly) for it, but in the process, we established ourselves.  Basically what I’m saying is that you have to be willing to promote your peers without asking, “What’s in it for me?” When you do that, everyone benefits.
Sixthly, you’ve got to quit worrying about Good Reads. If you are cross marketing as I’ve mentioned, you’ll soon discover that the ratings on Good Reads don’t mean much. Only a fraction of readers use Good Reads to make their decisions about which books to read. Let me give an example. This past summer I released a book which, after nearly five months, has only 65 ratings. When I received my first quarterly statement, though, I’d sold over 800 copies just within a partial quarter. I have one book of which I’ve sold over 10k copies, but if you look at my Good Reads page, you’d think I don’t sell squat.  Again, it’s about the fish bowl. You MUST build an audience that extends beyond m/m, unless, of course, you are one of those very few ultra-popular m/m authors whose books shoot to the top of the bestseller list the day they’re released.
And finally, embrace m/m. It might seem like I’ve been saying this whole time that m/m is too small and that it’s just a fish bowl which is not big enough to support you. But make no mistake, without m/m, gay fiction would now be pretty much dead. Even though I do not attract the lion’s share of m/m readers like my successful contemporaries, it is m/m which gives me my platform. M/m publishers are the ones who make my books available around the world. They’re the ones who hire the awesome cover artists and employ the amazing editors who transform my manuscripts into something legible. And m/m readers do comprise a big chunk of my audience.
I think of my writing career as a quilt. There are different patches, all unique and special, and they’re woven together to create my audience. One patch is my young adult readers. Another is gay men. A big patch in the center is my m/m audience which is mostly female. The quilt contains a patch of BDSM fans, a patch of European and Australian readers, and even a patch of Asian fans.
I have no idea what will happen going forward. Each year I pray this will be the one where I release the “big one” that appeals to everyone. But that might never happen. I’m content with my beautiful quilt, and I love and appreciate the readers who’ve supported me.
So yeah, I understand about being discouraged, and I get it when you tell me it’s not worth it and that you feel like quitting. But maybe, just maybe, if someone like me can manage to sew together a patchwork audience, you can figure out a way to do the same. You’ve got the talent, and you’re already published.

So you write gay-themed fictional novels and short stories, and you want to get them published. Not only that, but you also dream of someday writing full time and giving up your evil day job. You don’t want to brag, but you’re pretty confident you’ve got talent. Some of the published stories you’ve read are not nearly as well-written and entertaining as your own work. Your family and friends, and even a few people online have told you how awesome you are, and they’ve even promised to buy your books if you do get published.
So you bite the bullet and go for it. You submit your manuscript to one or more publishers, and you wait. When a few weeks later you receive a contract offer, you’re over the moon with excitement. You’re going to be published! The whole world will know who you are, a published author. Yippee!
Then you begin the whole process of getting your story published. Your manuscript goes through a series of edits. A cover jacket is created. You write your dedication, acknowledgements, and forward. At last, you receive a galley proof which you approve and then wait for your release date.
All of this, from the early stages of contemplating submission to the final release date, is just the beginning. That’s the easy stuff.  What is much harder is the waiting game that happens next. You wonder how your book is doing, how many copies you’ve sold. You stress over the mixed reviews you receive. You try to follow your book’s success on Good Reads and Amazon. And you do whatever you can think of to promote the book—blogging, social media, advertisements.
Then finally, as much as six months later, you receive a royalty statement that shows you exactly how many copies were sold, and your heart sinks. By this time, you’ve completed other novels, and you hope they do better than your first. You go through the whole process over and over, and every three months when you get your statement, you feel your dream eroding. The paltry number of copies is so pathetic you barely consider it worth the effort. You’re so discouraged, and the harder you try, the more it feels like you’re beating your head against a wall. What’s the secret? How come some authors in your genre do so well? How come some get thousands of ratings on Good Reads? Is their writing that much better than yours?
And then…you finally realize it’s time to throw in the towel. The hundreds of hours you spend writing your manuscripts, proofing, editing, and revising—not to mention the promotional costs of the conferences, advertisements, and giveaways—result in a net loss. You spend more than you make. You think you’ve done everything right, but nothing seems to work, so you resignedly call it quits.
The publishing industry is no picnic, and being an author within a small sub-genre is about the lowest level of hell. It really isn’t dog-eat-dog, survival of the fittest; it’s survival of the luckiest. Those stories that hit the bestseller lists and remain at the top are not much different than what the plethora of other m/m authors write. The writing craft skills are not more honed and refined. The plots, characterizations, pacing, and cadence have not been more skillfully constructed. And even the promotional efforts of those authors—their websites, advertisement, blogs, etcetera—are no more appealing than the rest.
So why is it that only a select few rise to the top and the vast majority flail around like dogs at the feet of their masters’ dinner tables, waiting for some crumbs to fall to the floor? Is it image? Is it name recognition? Is it just plain luck?
Can’t we ask these same questions about every type of public expression? Singers, journalists and reporters, actors, musicians, artists…there are a very few who rise to the top while the vast majority struggle to eek by. Starving artists. We don’t always know why lightning strikes in a specific location, we just see the result when it happens.
A few of the people I love—people I’ve GROWN to love after getting to know as fellow authors within this genre—have reached their breaking points and regrettably decided to give it up. It’s easy to say that’s the way the cookie crumbles, that some make it and others don’t, and that those who are truly talented ultimately get their reward. But I honestly know this isn’t true. I see some of these people who have amazing talent. I read their books and blush, knowing they are better writers than I am but they’re virtually invisible. I cross my fingers for them. Sometimes I even pray for them, to a God I’m not even sure exists. And it makes me sad to feel so powerless. It isn’t fair.
But don’t we know this to also be true in television, movies, and even in mainstream literary fiction? Some of the most popular, blockbuster hits are utterly horrible, and we scratch our head, wondering why they became so famous. We hear musicians who can’t carry a tune, actors whose performances are cringe-worthy, and writers who crank out the worst crap we’ve ever read—and they are mega stars, household names, industry icons.
I don’t have answers to this mystery. I don’t know what to tell these talented authors who deserve more attention but don’t seem to get any. There isn’t a magic wand to wave. There’s not a secret formula or a surefire path to success. If there were, I’d be following it myself. I have acquired moderate success in the genre, enough to make this my full time job, but I certainly haven’t become rich and famous.
I can, however, share some of the things that have worked for me and hope these tips will benefit some others.
First of all, you have to remember that m/m fiction is a fish bowl environment. A relatively small group of people read our books, and because this number is so finite, the market can easily be saturated. In some respects, it is first-come, first-served. The authors who’ve been around awhile are more recognized, and thus it is all the more difficult for new talent to be noticed. Go visit Dreamspinner Press’s author page and count the authors on their list. They have over six hundred, and this is just one publisher.  So what am I saying? Be patient. The more exposure you get, the more your work will be noticed, and when it is, you’ll become a “new-to-me” author to a lot of loyal readers who will then be incentivized to seek out your back list.
Secondly, because the sub-genre is so small, you might consider some cross-marketing strategies. What did I do? Well, I didn’t start off by promoting myself as an m/m author. I originally published a gay fiction novel about teenage love. It quickly became labeled young adult, and then I embraced the designation and sort of ran with it. I submitted the book to every young adult blog and review site I knew to exist. That helped me build a base a readers or “fans” that extended beyond that fish bowl.  Add to that the fact that my first writings were posted on an amateur website. I used to write authoritarian (BDSM) erotic stories for the Nifty Archive, and so many of those readers followed me after I became published. I also embraced this designation. I don’t market my work exclusively within the m/m community, and if I had to rely only upon m/m romance readers, I probably would be on food stamps right now.
Thirdly, I didn’t limit my marketing to the Internet. Four local newspapers have thus far run feature articles/interviews about me and my stories. One of them is an LGBT publication, but the other three were mainstream press.  I also reached out to several independent local bookstores. I found four who were willing to sell my books on consignment. One of them now buys copies outright.
Fourthly, I did what I had to do to maintain cash flow. Waiting every three months to get paid sucks, and it isn’t practical…or in my case even possible.  That’s why I have stories at different publishers. They each are on a different calendar so that I get at least one check per month. Additionally, I self-publish some of my smaller books, and Amazon pays monthly (70 effin percent, by the way!).
Fifthly, I networked. Around the time I was first published, I co-owned and operated a reviewing blog. Back then it was called Michele ‘n Jeff Reviews, and it has now evolved into Top 2 Bottom Reviews. Although I’m no longer directly involved with that website, it afforded me a terrific opportunity to meet a lot of amazingly talented authors. As the site grew, it eventually was noticed by all of the m/m publishers as well as the most popular authors. We reviewed their books, and those authors and publishers promoted our site. As readers visited our site, they were exposed to my work as well. Granted, it was a hell of a lot of work to not only read and review the books but also to arrange the interviews and post them every day. But here’s the deal: we did a lot for the authors and publishers and received nothing (directly) for it, but in the process, we established ourselves.  Basically what I’m saying is that you have to be willing to promote your peers without asking, “What’s in it for me?” When you do that, everyone benefits.
Sixthly, you’ve got to quit worrying about Good Reads. If you are cross marketing as I’ve mentioned, you’ll soon discover that the ratings on Good Reads don’t mean much. Only a fraction of readers use Good Reads to make their decisions about which books to read. Let me give an example. This past summer I released a book which, after nearly five months, has only 65 ratings. When I received my first quarterly statement, though, I’d sold over 800 copies just within a partial quarter. I have one book of which I’ve sold over 10k copies, but if you look at my Good Reads page, you’d think I don’t sell squat.  Again, it’s about the fish bowl. You MUST build an audience that extends beyond m/m, unless, of course, you are one of those very few ultra-popular m/m authors whose books shoot to the top of the bestseller list the day they’re released.
And finally, embrace m/m. It might seem like I’ve been saying this whole time that m/m is too small and that it’s just a fish bowl which is not big enough to support you. But make no mistake, without m/m, gay fiction would now be pretty much dead. Even though I do not attract the lion’s share of m/m readers like my successful contemporaries, it is m/m which gives me my platform. M/m publishers are the ones who make my books available around the world. They’re the ones who hire the awesome cover artists and employ the amazing editors who transform my manuscripts into something legible. And m/m readers do comprise a big chunk of my audience.
I think of my writing career as a quilt. There are different patches, all unique and special, and they’re woven together to create my audience. One patch is my young adult readers. Another is gay men. A big patch in the center is my m/m audience which is mostly female. The quilt contains a patch of BDSM fans, a patch of European and Australian readers, and even a patch of Asian fans.
I have no idea what will happen going forward. Each year I pray this will be the one where I release the “big one” that appeals to everyone. But that might never happen. I’m content with my beautiful quilt, and I love and appreciate the readers who’ve supported me.
So yeah, I understand about being discouraged, and I get it when you tell me it’s not worth it and that you feel like quitting. But maybe, just maybe, if someone like me can manage to sew together a patchwork audience, you can figure out a way to do the same. You’ve got the talent, and you’re already published.